Pierced
by Logospilgrim
Summary: What if those daggers had hit their mark? A sequel to my short story "Obligations."
1. daggers

Pierced

by

Logospilgrim

[_]

Author notes: Kind readers, I have a small surprise for you... The blot bunny, I could not resist it. Here is the sequel to my short story "Obligations." Thank you, as always, for your kindness.

Warning for use of sharp implements. Blood. Pathos. Helpless!Snape.

_Aufero Diligenter_ -"remove carefully"

Your devoted

Logospilgrim, the quiet professor

[_]

Snape was not quick enough. Not this time. Too many sleepless nights, too much worry and firewhiskey. His reflexes were not what they once were.

Even as he tried to shove the suit of armor between himself and the enchanted daggers that McGonagall had hurled at him with a flick of her wand, one of them sank into his right shoulder, penetrating all the way into the stone wall, holding him fast.

He gave a strangled cry and was struck by a swift succession of blows, a dagger piercing his left hand, another running through the flesh beneath his rib cage on the left side of his abdomen, yet another stabbing him in his right thigh. He was pinned against the wall like a dark butterfly.

His wand slipped from his fingers and rolled upon the floor.

Everyone stood still.

Snape's eyes were wide open, and his mouth was gaping. Short, painful breaths were forced in and out of his chest; his face was deathly pale and shining with sweat; his eyes were dazed.

Harry removed his invisibility cloak, taking almost all present by surprise -especially the Headmaster, who made as if to move and then choked back a cry of agony. "P- Po... Potter... Harry..."

The young Gryffindor took a step towards Snape. The latter appeared to be struggling against unconsciousness; he swallowed and blinked repeatedly.

"You murdered Dumbledore," Harry said, his voice cold and hard.

But Snape shook his head. "N... No..."

"You're going to die like the coward you are," Harry said.

"Listen... to me..." Snape croaked. "Before it's too... too late... Please..."

A slight frown creased Harry's brow. "I don't have time for your lies, Snape."

Snape shook his head again. "I've... a message," he said, and drew a shuddering breath. "From... From Dumbledore..."

"Liar!" Within a couple of seconds, Harry was standing face to face with Snape, his wand gouging the taller man's throat. "You're nothing but a liar, and I hate you, I hate you!"

Snape looked as though his eyes couldn't focus. "Let me show you... m- my... Patronus," he said, the words barely audible. Blood was pooling at his feet, and seeped from the corner of his mouth. "Little time..."

Harry's firm resolve began to waver. _"I trust Snape_,_"_ Dumbledore had told him over and over. But it was Snape who cast the spell that ended the elderly wizard's life. Snape who had tormented him since he'd first arrived at Hogwarts. Snape, the Death Eater...

Snape's breathing was growing more irregular. Harry stared at him and said, "If you try anything, I swear I'll kill you."

"Potter!" McGonagall cried as Harry picked up Snape's wand.

"Keep your wands trained on him," Harry told the nearby adults. He handed Snape his ebony colored wand, but the Headmaster could not quite curl his fingers around the handle; his suffering was too great.

To Harry's shock, he heard Snape murmur, "Help me."

Harry closed his hand around Snape's, so that the Headmaster could grip his wand. Snape took a few shallow breaths, as if gathering what was left of his paltry strength, and said, "_Expecto Patronum_."

He was unable to sustain the spell for longer than a moment, but everybody gasped at the sight of the gentle, brilliant white doe that emerged from his wand.

Harry's jaw dropped, and his eyes locked with Snape's. "It was... You?"

Snape gave a feeble nod and passed out, his head hanging forward.

Harry snapped into action. "We have to those things out of him... Hurry. Whatever's going on, we need him alive."

"Potter, are you sure?" McGonagall said. Then she looked at Snape and whispered, "Severus... I don't understand..."

Luna went to Harry's side and said, "I'll help you, Harry."

McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout glanced at each other and joined Harry and Luna who were considering Snape's limp form.

"We have to be careful," Luna said softly. "That wound will have to be looked after right away." She indicated Snape's abdomen, into which the largest of the daggers had been thrust.

"Let's remove those from his hand and leg first," McGonagall said. She pointed her trembling wand at him and said, "_Aufero Diligenter_."

The daggers slowly slid from his thigh and the palm of his hand.

"Now... The shoulder," McGonagall said. "Hold him up, Potter."

Harry stepped closer to the Headmaster, preparing himself to bolster the man he had spent so many years loathing. He gripped him underneath the left arm and could feel Snape's cheek pressed against his shoulder. "I'm ready."

"_Aufero Diligenter_," McGonagall said.

Blood flowed from Snape's shoulder as the dagger eased itself from his body, inch by painful inch, then he slumped into Harry's awaiting arms.

"I've got him," Harry said. "Get the last one out of him."

"There might be more blood this time," Luna said. "My father and I have taken care of lots of injured magical creatures, you know..."

"Pomona, see if you can find Poppy," McGonagall said.

The stout witch nodded and raced down the hall.

McGonagall pointed her wand at Snape one more time, carefully dislodging the dagger that still affixed him to the wall. An alarming quantity of blood gushed from him when he was at last set free, and Harry heard a faint groan escape Snape's lips.

"Put him on the floor, Potter," McGonagall said, her features almost as pale as Snape's.

With McGonagall and Flitwick's assistance, Harry lowered Snape until the latter was resting upon the stone surface. Luna knelt next to the Headmaster and began loosing his cravat.

"We have to try and control the bleeding," McGonagall said.

Flitwick muttered a spell, and a curtain hanging in front of one of the window started ripping itself into a series of long strands, which flew across the corridor and piled neatly alongside Snape.

To their astonishment, Snape's eyes suddenly fluttered and he drew in a sharp, agonized breath.

"No... Calling me... God, no..."

"Severus, try to stay calm," McGonagall said, as she herself attempted not to panic. She kneeled next to him and promptly wrapped a strip of fabric around his bleeding hand.

His features contorted into a mask of pain.

"Summons..."

"Poppy will be here in a moment," McGonagall said, turning her attention to his leg, while Harry pressed a bunched up mound of cloth below the Headmaster's ribs.

Snape's head was rolling from side to side on the cold floor, and he could not prevent the tears that seeped from the corners of his eyes.

"We'll have to lift him a little, so I can bandage his shoulder," Luna said.

No sooner had she and McGonagall raised him slightly from the floor that he cried out and lost consciousness again.

"We should get those robes off of him," McGonagall said, a sheen of sweat covering her face.

Harry, Luna and McGonagall managed to remove the robes, which were a bloody, tangled mess, from the inert Headmaster, and then they unbuttoned his coat and shirt. McGonagall tugged the soiled garments halfway down his arms, so that his shoulders were exposed, and she and Luna wrapped bandages around the injured one, while Harry did the same to Snape's abdomen.

The sound of running footsteps echoed further down the hallway, and a second later, Pomfrey and Sprout were hastening towards them.

"What in Merlin's name happened here?" Pomfrey said. She dropped to her knees beside Snape, drew her wand and waved it across his body. "What have you done to him! Severus!"

"Oh... I'd say it was a misunderstanding," Luna said as she serenely continued to coil bandages around Snape's shoulder. "The Headmaster will explain everything when he's better."

"I know he's on our side," Pomfrey said tersely.

They all gaped at her.

"What?" McGonagall said. "Why didn't you tell m-"

"Because he didn't! But we haven't got time for this now. I have to mend these wounds or there's no chance he'll live much longer, let alone get better," Pomfrey said, moving her wand in swift, abrupt motions over his chest and muttering one spell after the other. "His stomach has been punctured through... He's bleeding internally."

McGonagall's eyes were watering. "It's my fault... But I didn't know... I thought... Dumbledore didn't tell me anything, and Severus... What were we supposed to believe?"

"We still don't really know what's going on, professor," Harry said. "Once he tells us Dumbledore's message, then... You did what you had to do." He gazed at Snape. "I'm sure he'll agree."

"Minerva, give him this," Pomfrey said, handing her a vial. "Blood replenishing potion. I've got the stomach wound under control..." She cast yet more spells. "Yes, he's responding well..."

McGonagall pointed her wand at Snape and said, "_Ennervate_."

The Headmaster's eyes barely opened.

"Severus, can you hear me? Swallow this."

She poured the liquid into his mouth little by little, allowing him to ingest it safely; at last the vial was empty.

"That's it," McGonagall said.

His eyes opened a bit more and he looked at her with an intensity that belied the weakness of his state. "Potter... Minerva, where is... Harry Potter..."

"I'm here, professor," Harry said, leaning closer to the stricken man.

Snape began to shiver. "Potter... I... I..."

McGonagall transfigured Snape's bloodied clothing into a warm blanket and wrapped it snugly around his upper body.

"We need to take him to the hospital wing," Pomfrey said.

"This can't... wait," Snape said. He shuddered with the effort of speaking, but did not relent. "You must trust... trust me..." he said, glancing at Harry before letting his eyes drift shut.


	2. confusion

Author's note: Kind readers, please forgive the delay between the first part and this long overdue update... I had a wonderful time at Infinitus, my lecture went well, I signed a few books, wandered around Hogsmeade in a daze (it was completely amazing), drank too much Infinitus Punch during the Ball, and I had to rest for a while after all those adventures :-)

So, let us continue where we left off last time... Thank you, as always, for your kind words about my little scribblings. I am one of those frequently overwhelmed professors and terrible at responding to individual reviews, but your joy never fails to make me smile; it goes straight to my heart, and I appreciate your generosity very much.

I shall do my best to post another update soon.

Your devoted

Logospilgrim, the quiet professor

[_]

"This can't... wait," Snape said. He shuddered with the effort of speaking, but did not relent. "You must trust... trust me..." he said, glancing at Harry before letting his eyes drift shut.

"What is it Professor Dumbledore wanted me to know, Headmaster?" Harry asked Snape.

Snape groaned again. "Mark burning... He is getting angrier... Looking for you..."

"I know, professor," Harry said. "What did Dumbledore tell you?"

"He..." The Headmaster's voice broke and more tears flowed from his closed eyelids. "Lily, forgive... forgive me..."

All those who were huddled around him exchanged stunned looks.

"Dark Lord... a piece of his... soul... is in you, Potter..."

Harry's face suddenly drained of color.

"When he k- killed... your parents... A part of his... his soul was torn away... He doesn't know..."

"What did Dumbledore want me to do?" Harry said, unable to keep himself from shaking.

The sound of Snape's voice was growing fainter, and Harry inclined his head so that his ear neared Snape's mouth.

"You must... let... him... Must be... him... Or it will never... end..."

Harry stared down at the Headmaster, who opened his eyes and stared up at him in return. More tears swam in Snape's dark, feverish eyes, and he whispered, "He was... right. You are so... much... like your... mother..."

Snape finally lost consciousness, and his pallor was such that, apart from a small flutter on the side of his neck, it seemed as though he had breathed his last.

[_]

Darkness, for a while. Then, images, some terrible, others pleasant, until darkness enveloped him once more. Was he in heaven or hell? Or was he dreaming? But he couldn't be alive... Could he?

He was unable to decide what was actually happening to him, so he took refuge in the darkness every time it submerged the visions that either tormented him or gave him peace. Darkness, at least, was a familiar place.

Eventually, he thought he heard something. Words. For a reason he couldn't understand, he made what felt like an effort -perhaps he was alive after all- and tried to discern what was being said.

Something about... Someone else in the room, or wherever this was occurring.

"...had any sleep tonight, dear?"

A yawn.

"You should go to your dorm, get some rest-"

"No, I just... I'd rather stick around, Madam Pomfrey, if that's all right. I wouldn't get more rest there anyway."

The dark haired man who had lain motionless for over two weeks suddenly felt his heart racing inside his chest. That voice...

_Potter... The Dark Lord... The war._

Snape attempted to raise himself, but his whole body was so sluggish and weakened that the best he could do was stir a bit upon the bed, a rasp escaping his throat.

"Severus!" Pomfrey said softly as she hastened to Snape's side. "Can you hear me? Stay still. You've been injured."

"Mmgh..."

"Harry, get me a glass of water," Pomfrey said, "and a cloth."

The young man promptly did as she requested, then watched her dip a corner of the square piece of linen into the glass and gently moisten the Headmaster's parched lips.

"Better, isn't it?" She told Snape. "Would you like to try taking a few sips?" She waved her wand so that the upper portion of the bed was at an angle.

He shook his head, his eyes inching open. He grimaced, blinded by the daylight, and ignoring the water that Pomfrey was proffering him, tried in vain to speak.

"Stubborn man," she said with a patient, rueful smile. "Why don't you drink a bit first? I expect you'll find it helpful."

This time, Snape cooperated, and although he sensed that the cool liquid was indeed loosening his vocal cords, he also became aware of an immense thirst; for a moment, this completely distracted him from the fear that had gripped him when he awoke.

"Not so fast, now, you'll shock your system," Pomfrey said, encouraging him to swallow more slowly, and in smaller quantity. "That's it... There we are."

As Snape's thirst slackened, however, he remembered that he urgently needed to know if... If what? He frowned, his thoughts a tired, confused jumble. His side was hurting him, and his shoulder, too, who knew why...

"Professor?"

Snape's head turned towards the source of the sound, and his eyes found Harry's.

_Green eyes... Green smoke swirling overhead, a skull, a snake... Spells being fired, the Dark Lord-_

"Harry Potter," Snape said, his heartbeat picking up speed yet again. Harry Potter, alive? Did the boy know -had Snape fulfilled his dreadful mission, or was the Dark Lord as yet undefeated?

"Did... did... I have to tell you... Dumbledore, h- he... I..." Snape began to stammer so much that his words grew unintelligible, and within seconds he was gasping for breath.

"Calm down, Severus," Pomfrey said, and waved her wand across the Headmaster's body. "Everything's fine... Calm down..." Her spells promptly subdued the already exhausted man, whose muscles unclenched and whose mind was pacified.

"That's it, just relax..." Pomfrey rearranged the bed covers, pulling them neatly over Snape's chest. "There's nothing to worry about. Voldemort is dead."

Snape's eyes widened for a second, then he blinked a few times. "But... Harry's alive."

"It's a long story, sir. I sort of died, well, I _did_ die, but I spoke with Dumbledore, or at least I think I did, and he explained everything. I told Voldemort that without you, I never would have been able to defeat him... Everyone knows. It probably doesn't make sense, but I'll tell you all that I know, when you're better, sir."

The Headmaster raised his eyebrow, ever so slightly, at the Boy Who Somehow Went Right On Living. "Indeed..."

He sighed deeply; that was more than enough madness for one day. He surrendered to sleep.

[_]

Darkness... Images, sometimes pleasant, and others terrible.

Like now.

_It's only a dream_, his mind pointed out, to little effect. Snape was losing his tenuous hold upon the self-control that had enabled him to keep an emotional distance from even the most horrific nocturnal visions.

The divide between dreams and reality was widening. Or was it narrowing?

There she was, hanging upside down before him, rotating slowly, calling out to him every time her face came into view.

"Severus... Please help me! Severus, please..."

_No... Don't look at me... Oh, my God... My God, forgive me..._

She repeated her desperate plea, which made his heart lurch and his innards twist. No matter; he had to remain outwardly impervious, implacable, unmoved.

The terrified, tear-streaked features gave way to those of a bearded man with piercing blue eyes.

_No, no... I cannot bear it._

"Severus... please..."

Snape slashed the air with his wand and screamed.

_I did not want this!_

Behind Dumbledore's collapsing form emerged the embodiment of Snape's worst nightmares, the snake-faced man, the Dark Lord, his pitiless Master who was accompanied by a large, vicious black serpent.

"You did well, my faithful one."

But the Dark Lord's cold smile turned into a scowl, and the word "Traitor!" began to ring above the tower, merging with the tempestuous noise of a gathering storm...

Snape fell to his knees in terror, his body numb and yet burning. He was guilty of everything. He had no one left.

The coiled snake lunged at him, its fangs sinking first into his thigh, then his shoulder, and then his side; Snape's screams intensified. The pain radiated to the very tip of his fingers -to the depth of his soul.

_Please..._

[_]

"Professor?"

Luna Lovegood had been sitting at Snape's bedside that evening. Madam Pomfrey was caring for other patients further down the hospital wing, and Harry had finally been convinced to get some rest; he was in the Gryffindor common room with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, where Kreacher was busy fussing over them.

"There's plenty of time for you to ask your questions to Headmaster Snape," Luna had told Harry. "He'll need to heal for a while. In the meantime, I think it would do you good to talk with friends. It would do them good too."

"Yeah... That'd be nice. Let me know if anything happens." At her quizzical expression, he shrugged and said, "I'm still, uh... on the alert for trouble, I guess."

"The Headmaster isn't the only one who needs time to recover from things."

"I suppose you're right. Thanks, Luna. I'll see you later, then."

Luna had spent part of the evening perusing an old copy of The Quibbler, listening to Snape's even breaths, when she noticed that his body jerked slightly. She put her magazine down and carefully studied his slumbering features.

Shortly after, his limbs twitched again, more violently, and she drew closer, her head tilted to one side.

"No... Don't..." he whispered.

"Professor?"

"Cannot bear it..."

His agitation abruptly increased; Luna rose from her chair and lay her hand lightly upon his chest.

"Wake up, sir... It's all right, you're at Hogwarts..."

He screamed.

Luna looked up to see Madam Pomfrey running towards them.

"What's happened?" Pomfrey said as she gripped Snape's wrists in an effort to keep him from thrashing.

"He's been quiet for hours, but-"

Snape let out another heart-rending scream, and blood began to seep through his bandages and nightgown.

"_Petrificus Totalis_!" Pomfrey said, pointing her wand at him. "_Ennervate_!"

Instantly, the Headmaster was immobilized and although his eyes snapped open, he was still caught in whatever nightmare had intruded upon his sleep. His breath came in short, ragged gasps and his gaze was so glassy it almost looked as if he were blind.

"Miss Lovegood, go fetch me a vial of Dreamless Sleep potion," Pomfrey told Luna, who somehow managed to maintain her serene composure and simply nodded.

Pomfrey turned her attention to the Headmaster. The instant she released him from the _Petrificus Totalis_ spell, he began to tremble. His clouded eyes met hers and he murmured, "P- Poisoned... Nagini..."

"You're safe in the hospital wing, Severus," Pomfrey said, stroking his head. "It was just a bad dream."

"But... She bit me... It hurts."


	3. salve

Author's note: Kind readers, another interminable delay! I fear it is my specialty. Another convention, this time in New Hampshire, two lectures, rest... This and that...

And now that I have begun working on my third book of essays about Professor Snape, _The Severus Snape Paradigm: Outcast, Rebel, Hero_, (and have got Ascendio on my mind already), a little fanfic will do me good :-)

Warning: this will be maudlin and tender... But that is what I do. I cannot help it, and I am very, very much in the mood to lavish an extra large portion of love and comfort upon dear Professor Snape, who is just a human being like everyone else; who needs and deserves love. Thank you for indulging me!

Your devoted

Logospilgrim, the quiet professor

[_]

"You're safe in the hospital wing, Severus," Pomfrey said, stroking his head. "It was just a bad dream."

"But... She bit me... It hurts."

"You weren't bit, dear man... You were wounded, and you need to rest. Everything is all right now. All you need to do is rest."

"What happened..."

Pomfrey sighed. "There was a battle. Do you remember?"

"Battle..."

A slight crease appeared between his eyebrows and he gasped softly. His teeth clenched shut.

"K- knives... I didn't harm... Minerva... I didn't... didn't harm her?"

"No, Severus," Pomfrey said, her hand upon his moist, pale forehead. "You didn't so much as scratch anyone."

Pomfrey turned to Luna and murmured, "Get some fresh bandages."

Luna nodded and went to the cabinet across the large, rectangular room.

Out of the corner of her eye, Pomfrey saw McGonagall entering the Hospital Wing. The woman in the emerald green robes hesitated when she realized that Snape was conscious, and made to leave, but Pomfrey shook her head and gestured for her to approach the bedridden Headmaster.

"Try not to move too much, Severus. I'll get you more potions," Pomfrey said. "Minerva is here."

Snape immediately turned his head upon the pillow; both he and McGonagall gazed at each other with haunted, grief-filled eyes.

"Severus," she said, taking a step closer to the bed, "I..."

"I'm sorry," Snape whispered. "I couldn't... tell you."

"Oh, Severus, I'm the one who attacked you," she said, gently taking his bandaged hand between both of hers. She saw the fresh blood stain and her eyes watered.

He shook his head. "It wasn't your fault."

"How I wish I had been there to help you rather than..." McGonagall shuddered at the thought of his almost complete isolation, of those knives that had run him through and pinned his body to the stone wall; overcome, she kissed his hand, taking advantage of his physical weakness to express sentiments he had usually scorned.

A faint smirk curved his lips, but it was a much softer version of what had been such a familiar sight. His eyes looked up at her, the gratitude that lit them compelling her to kiss his hand again.

"You'll make it up to me... I'm sure," he said.

"The entire wizarding world wants to make it up to you." She smiled at his pained expression, which was belied by the traces of pink that appeared on his cheeks. "You're quite the hero, you know."

He gave an almost imperceptible shrug with his uninjured shoulder.

"I did what was... necessary."

"I hope you'll get used to the idea. You deserve to be praised. You've endured so much, and none of us- How could I fail to s-"

"Please, stop... I can't deal with this..." he said, his voice laced with pain.

"Forgive me, Severus... Shhh..." McGonagall said, stroking his wrist. "There's no need to worry about anything now."

"Minerva, would you give him these?" Pomfrey said as she neared the bed where he lay. She handed McGonagall three vials and took bandages from Luna, who had followed her across the Hospital Wing.

"Thank you, Luna," Pomfrey said. "Professor McGonagall and I will take it from here."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Luna said. She approached the bed for a moment. "Take care, Headmaster Snape."

He looked at her, eyes half-closed. Her face still bore faint marks of the torture she had suffered at the hands of the Death Eaters.

"You also, Miss Lovegood," he murmured.

She smiled at him with that ethereal smile of hers and left.

"Here, Severus..." McGonagall said.

He swallowed each of the vials that she placed against his lips, and shortly after his breathing deepened in sleep.

"Good," Pomfrey said, waving her wand over him. "He won't wake, poor lad. He needs all the rest he can get. Will you help me change his bandages, Minerva?"

"Of course," McGonagall said, but her voice trembled slightly.

"He'll be all right, you'll see... He's already improved a great deal. We'll start with his stomach wound."

McGonagall nodded, steeling herself.

"Let's raise him up, like this... With him leaning against you," Pomfrey said. She tilted his head back so that it was resting upon McGonagall's shoulder, then adjusted the sheets, nestling them around his waist. "Good..."

McGonagall's eyes grew moist as she beheld the sullied bandages that were wrapped around her younger colleague's slim frame. Without his black robes, he looked so vulnerable, so thin; all the suffering he hid beneath his garments was revealed. Pomfrey carefully undid the bandages covering his abdomen, unfazed by the blood and bruises that were soon revealed.

"It's not as bad as it looks, I promise," Pomfrey told McGonagall. "He has been healing very well."

McGonagall glanced at Snape, relieved to see that his features remained completely relaxed.

Pomfrey soaked a piece of cloth in a bowl of water, wrung it, and gently cleaned the drying blood on Snape's skin, dipping the cloth into the bowl several times; when she was done, what was left of the water had turned reddish.

"There we are," she said. She then applied a salve onto his injuries, and bandaged them again.

He sighed in his sleep.

"Let's lower him onto the bed," she told McGonagall, who cradled his head until it was cushioned by his pillows.

"He'll be out for a while," Pomfrey said, covering him with the sheet up to his shoulders. "I don't think he got much sleep this past year... Poor lad. Sleep all you want now, Severus."

McGonagall sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "It will be difficult to refrain from constantly letting him know how much we appreciate all he's done for us. I expect he'll end up barricading himself in his quarters to escape the attention."

"He might get used to it," Pomfrey said. "I know how much it made him suffer to pretend to be against us."

McGonagall pulled the blanket a little higher on his shoulders. "Thank heaven, those days are over."

[_]

"Headmaster?"

Snape stirred and slowly opened his eyes. "Hmmh..."

"I'm sorry if I woke you, sir. You looked like you were, uh... I thought that you might be waking up."

Harry watched as Snape looked at him for a moment, then closed his eyes again.

"...Sir?"

"What is it, Mister Potter?"

"Do you need anything, sir? You've been asleep for a while. Are you hungry?"

Snape's lips thinned, and Harry waited for the inevitable biting remark; but it never came. Instead, the Headmaster seemed to change his mind about something and said, "I am a bit hungry, yes. However, I would like to avail myself of the lavatory first." He drew a breath. "I shall require assistance."

His dark eyes focused upon Harry's, then he gazed down at his bare arms and bandaged hand. "It appears I shall also require a nightshirt."

Harry blinked. "Uh, right. I'll ask Madam Pomfrey where she keeps them, and, I mean, I'll ask her to help you get to th-"

"Nonsense, Mister Potter... You will do admirably, I'm sure."

Harry gawked at Snape as though the latter's hair had suddenly turned pink, and said, "Sir?"

"Potter, I am too tired to repeat myself. Get on with it, will you?"

Too stunned to voice anything else, Harry rose from his chair and hastened into Madam Pomfrey's office. He soon returned with the mediwitch, who bore an expression similar to the one etched upon his face. She had a long nightshirt draped over her arm and was holding a pair of black slippers.

"Severus, I hear that you're feeling a little better," she said, standing next to the bed. "Not that you can start moving about too much at this point, but-"

"Yes, yes, I know," Snape said. "All I want is to use the lavatory, and then have Mister Potter here wait on me while I continue to rest. I trust that is acceptable?"

Pomfrey remained silent, then she uttered a few diagnostic spells. "Just take it slowly, Severus."

"Even I can see that prudence would be advisable," he said. "Besides... It is my wish." His eyes met hers. "_My_ wish. I shall not be rushed."

"Of course not," Pomfrey said gently.

"Now, if you would help me with the nightshirt..."

He took her proffered hand, gingerly sitting upright. The sheet slid down chest to his hips and Harry averted his eyes.

"Everything good?" Pomfrey said.

Snape gave a sharp nod.

A few half-suppressed gasps later, and he was rising to his feet as he held on to Pomfrey's arm, the nightgown falling to his ankles.

"There," he said, his body trembling slightly. "Mister Potter..."

Harry turned around and hurried to Snape's side. The Headmaster gripped the young man's shoulder, and stepped into his slippers.

"All right, sir?" Harry said.

"Yes."

The two slowly made their way to the bathroom. Once they reached the door, Snape said, "Wait for me here."

Harry nodded, then tried to listen, and yet _not_ listen, while Snape was in the bathroom. Fortunately, he heard nothing like the Headmaster falling on the floor, and shortly after the door opened.

Snape was looking a touch paler, but he resolutely took the few steps needed for him to cross the threshold towards Harry, who was extending his arm in Snape's direction.

"All right, sir?"

"Yes, thank you," Snape said, his hand closing around Harry's forearm.

By the time they got to his bedside, the Headmaster was slightly out of breath. It was with undisguised relief that he reclined upon the bed and let his head sink into his pillows. He didn't even protest when Pomfrey tucked him in again.

"Just one thing, Poppy," he said with a tired voice. "I shall need at least one of my arms if I am to eat."

"Here you are, dear," she said, folding the sheet back. "What would you like?"

"Oh, I don't know... I suppose broth would be nice."

No sooner were the words out of Snape's mouth than a grinning House Elf appeared with a steaming bowl of chicken broth, a piece of bread and a glass of water set upon a tray. It was as though the elves had been waiting around the corner, poised for the first opportunity to care for the injured Headmaster.

"Just like Master Snape is wanting," the elf said.

"Thank you, Flopsie," Pomfrey said, taking the tray.

"Is there anything else that Master Snape would be needing?"

"If he does, I'll make certain to let you know," the mediwitch said.

The elf bowed a few times and vanished, lighting the room with a flash as it did so.

Pomfrey lowered the tray upon a high, narrow table at the foot of Snape's bed. She then rolled the table, which encompassed the bed, until the tray was before Snape.

"Let's make you comfortable, Severus..."

She waved her wand, raising the upper portion of the bed so that he was in a sitting position, and arranged his pillows behind him.


	4. home

Author's note: I know, I know... It has been quite a while, yet again! After I finished writing my third book of mystical essays about Professor Snape (see the note at the start of the previous chapter), and then going to Ascendio to sign copies of it and ramble again, I needed a few months of rest to recover. Then I wrote another book, went to another convention (MISTI-Con in New Hampshire), there was another lecture... I also wrote an article that is included in my friend Rik Potter's new book _The Boy Who Lived: Magickal Spirituality in the Harry Potter Universe_. Whew!

But. I wanted to finish this tale! It seems that it will be easier for me to write shorter stories now.

Your devoted

Logospilgrim, the quiet professor

[_]

"Let's make you comfortable, Severus..."

She waved her wand, raising the upper portion of the bed so that he was in a sitting position, and arranged his pillows behind him.

"Would you like a potion for the pain first?" Pomfrey asked him, after seeing him wince a few times as he shifted against the pillows.

"Yes."

Her fingers closed around one of the many vials on Snape's nightstand, and she handed it to him.

"Now hopefully I shall not fall asleep," he said after he had swallowed its bluish contents. "At least not until I have eaten a little..." He yawned softly, and didn't seem to notice when Pomfrey removed the empty vial from his loose grip. "It has been a while since... I have had much of an appetite..."

Pomfrey unfolded the napkin that was next to the bowl of soup, and placed it on Snape's lap. "Here you are, dear. Do you need anything else?"

"I don't think so."

The Headmaster picked up the spoon with his good hand, and began sipping the chicken broth that Flopsy had brought him. Moments later, he was close to gulping it down despite his exhaustion.

"Would you like something more, sir?" Harry said. The man was so thin, it was no surprise that he should be famished; nevertheless, Snape's unveiled humanity continued to bewilder Harry, who still had trouble adjusting to all that had happened since the day he had learned whose Patronus the silver doe had been.

Snape put his spoon on the tray and said, "This will do for now..." Although he looked ready to fall asleep, he added, "I can tell you that when I am better, I plan to eat a meal that will put your friend Mister Weasley to shame."

While Harry boggled at him, Pomfrey removed the tray from the bed with a smile. Snape then curled on his side, light snores escaping him almost immediately.

[_]

"He said _what_?" Ron said, his hand freezing mid-motion as he momentarily forgot to close his fingers around yet another warm piece of toast.

"You'd better get ready," Harry told him. "Professor Snape has become a human being. First, we find out that he sleeps, and now, it turns out he eats as well."

"And don't forget the most important bit," one of the Gryffindor girls who sat nearby said. "He's... romantic." The other girls in the small group sighed and giggled while Ron made a sour face.

"Honestly!" Hermione said. However, her chastising tone was tempered by the smile that threatened to stretch her lips.

"I used to think those robes of his were frightening, but now..." The girl who'd first begun talking about the Headmaster's newly revealed tender side put a hand upon her chest and shivered.

Her friends squealed and tittered.

Hermione shook her head; she was spotting similar giggling clusters of students throughout the Great Hall. "Professor Snape is either going to take a thousand points away from all four Houses or run for his life when he gets out of the Hospital Wing."

[_]

Fortunately for everyone, and for the Headmaster, neither scenarios would be happening for a while yet.

A ceremony honoring the heroes of the wizarding world had taken place without him, as he was still too weak to attend, but Minister Shacklebolt came to his bedside and placed a white box, containing Snape's Order of Merlin, First Class, and a rolled parchment from the Ministry of Magic extolling his role in Voldemort's defeat, next to all the cards and gifts that were crowding the Headmaster's nightstand.

"Congratulations, Severus," Shacklebolt told the sleeping wizard. "You deserve this."

When Snape wasn't sleeping, he was either eating or gazing out of the windows. He often had visitors as well, but even though he was almost fully healed from his wounds, he couldn't keep up conversations for long; his eyes would start drifting shut and he would fall asleep again.

"I'm fine, just tired, I suppose," he told McGonagall as she sat next to his bed, holding his hand, one afternoon a month before the Christmas holidays. "Now that I have been recuperating, my body doesn't seem inclined to stop, and I don't feel like fighting it. I fought it for so long."

"Of course not, Severus," McGonagall said. "Take all the time you need."

"I am sure I shall feel well enough to resume my duties when the winter semester begins."

"Heavens, don't worry about this now," she said, and patted his hand. "I took over and will continue to do so until you're ready."

"It is... good, now that everything is more peaceful, but I might be feeling somewhat restless, despite all this lying about in bed."

McGonagall chuckled. "I think you still need time. Thankfully, your body is apparently aware of this."

"It is so odd, feeling like this... Almost like a normal person. And yet it is not as difficult as I had imagined it would be. Not that I ever really imagined such a thing. My life has always been like a shadow. I have never truly been present... I have been in the past, or... or wishing. Lurking..."

"It won't be that way anymore, Severus."

Snape's dark eyes locked with hers. "Thank you, Minerva. It was you who released me that day," he whispered. "When you defeated me and set me free. Those scars will always be there to remind me of this," he added, closing his long fingers around McGonagall's hand. "I am home because of you."

She reached down and embraced him, and was not surprised when she felt his arms around her as well.

_Finis_


End file.
